Novels2Search
The Glitched One
Chapter 20: The lost sheep

Chapter 20: The lost sheep

I slipped the map into my back pocket and looked ahead. Requiem, the blacksmith’s shop, stood before me. Outside was an older man, likely the blacksmith, standing near his wares—shields and weapons on display, still damp from the rain the day before. I remembered seeing his quest on the board when I grabbed that flower retrieval job. The poor guy must’ve been dealing with this rat problem for a while. Judging by his age, there was no way he could handle a rat infestation on his own.

As I approached, I gave him a polite nod. He returned a warm smile, gesturing toward the equipment behind him as he scratched his beard.

“Sorry, kid,” he said. “Can’t use my shop at the moment. These are all I’ve got for now.”

“I’m here for the quest,” I replied. “The rat infestation.”

“Oh… okay. Thank you,” he said, pulling a key from his back pocket and handing it over. “Those damn rats have been giving me nightmares for days.”

“Yeah—I had the same problem back home,” I said. “Would it be alright if I didn’t kill them?”

“Sure,” he said, sighing. “Just get those rats out of my shop, please.”

Nodding, I took the key and unlocked the door. Stepping inside, I immediately noticed the state of the shop. The blacksmith's tools and equipment were scattered about, with a few rats in the corner nibbling on bits of something. The place was dim, with the smell of soot still lingering in the air from previous forge work.

While I scanned the room, I spotted the blue-tailed rat I needed to capture sitting on the counter, munching on a piece of bread. The moment I stepped forward, all the rats darted back into their hiding spots, including the blue-tailed one. Most of them scurried under the counter, while a few others dashed out of a small hole in the back wall. I could hear them skittering behind the wall, making their way through the tight spaces.

Making a mental note of where the blue-tailed rat had disappeared, I crouched down, looking through the little hole. A faint scratching noise came from the other side. The hole led to a back alley, and a foul stench wafted through it, hitting me full force.

“Ugh…”

I stood up quickly, unlocked the back door, and stepped outside to investigate. What I saw made me stop in my tracks—a dead cat’s carcass lay in the alley, and a swarm of rats had gathered around it, gnawing at the poor thing. Now I understood why the rats had become so interested in this area. They were drawn to the rotting body.

Shuddering, I placed one foot over the small hole to block the rats from running back inside, shooing them away as I gingerly picked up the cat’s remains. I found an empty box nearby—probably something the blacksmith used for deliveries—and used it to block the hole, preventing any more rats from entering the shop.

Grimacing, I carried the cat’s body into the main street. People shot me looks of disgust as they passed by, but I didn’t know where else to put it, so I placed it in a corner away from the road and returned to the alley.

“What I wouldn’t do for gold…” I muttered to myself, shaking my head as I headed back inside to finish the job.

I closed the door behind me and walked toward the counter, listening closely. The sounds of scurrying were unmistakable—at least four or five rats were still hiding underneath. If I was going to capture that blue-tailed rat, I needed a good trap. Luckily, an idea was forming in my mind.

Heading outside again, I grabbed the empty box I had spotted earlier. It was large enough to trap a good number of rats, maybe even twenty. After blocking the hole in the back wall with another box, I pulled out the small piece of cheese I had wrapped earlier in a scrap of cloth I bought on the way here. I carefully placed it inside the trap.

Using a sword from the blacksmith’s display as a makeshift ramp, I leaned it against the box, creating a stair for the rats. It would make it easier for them to climb in, but once they were inside, they'd have no way out. Satisfied with my setup, I dusted my hands off and took a step back.

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“That should do it,” I muttered to myself, giving the box one last check. "Now, onto that lost ring."

Leaving through the front entrance, I locked the door and handed the key back to the blacksmith. He was in the middle of a sale, discussing a shield with a customer. I waited until the man handed over some coins and walked off before I spoke.

“Most of the rats are gone,” I said, crossing my arms. “There’s a hole in the back wall. You’ll want to put some vinegar on it until you can get it fixed. That should keep them away.”

The blacksmith glanced through the window, squinting to peer inside his shop. “Ah, thanks for the tip,” he said, then pointed toward the box. “What’s that for?”

“Just a trap for the ones that are left. I’ll check it in about ten or twenty minutes,” I replied, my voice flat. “Don’t worry. I’ll handle it.”

The old man smiled, looking relieved. “I appreciate it, boy. Thank you.”

“No problem, sir,” I said, nodding before turning to leave. “I’ll be back shortly.” Without another word, I started toward the next quest.

I started walking toward the east entrance, deciding to deal with the lost sheep first. I had never seen a sheep in real life—only in video games and pictures from storybooks when I was a kid. Everything here felt so foreign, pushing me further and further out of my comfort zone. What a joke this all was.

The only thing keeping me going was the hope that, one day, I’d be back in my world. Sitting in my room with a hot cup of coffee, watching the rain, safe from monstrous creatures. Hell, at this point, I’d even tolerate listening to James rant about the stock market.

“I’ll be back...” I whispered to myself.

After some walking, I noticed a crowd gathered around a woman giving a speech. Keeping my expression neutral, I veered toward the gathering, slipping into the middle of the crowd. The woman stood on a wooden box, her attire suggesting she was of middle-class standing. The crowd murmured amongst themselves, some nodding in agreement as they chatted.

“So,” the woman continued, her voice growing louder, “when you see an elf, report it to the nearest guard. They aren’t safe.”

"Yes!" a man shouted from the crowd. “Two days ago, one of them tried to rob me on my way to the second graveyard! I barely escaped with my life!”

“You see?!” The woman gestured wildly. “Elves can’t act like normal humans... because they aren’t human! What makes us human is our beating hearts. And those creatures? They have stone where their hearts should be!”

“Yeah!”

“Kill the fuckers!”

“Damned elves!”

“Death to all of them!”

"Monsters... every last one!"

I pushed my way out of the crowd, shaking my head in disbelief. These people were serious about hating elves—talking about killing them on sight. Casual racism existed in my world, sure, but I had never seen this level of hate, this deep-rooted malice. It was as if they’d been fed stories about how evil elves were since birth.

“Sheesh,” I muttered. “What a bunch of racist idiots.”

The east gate was open, people passing through constantly. Some were carrying buckets of water on their shoulders, while children played games, darting between adults. It all looked so... normal, despite the craziness swirling in my head.

I passed through the gate and headed toward a small house near the tavern. A dog lay lazily by the front door, its eyes half-open, while a woman tended to her crops with the help of her children. A few sheep were penned in a clean-looking enclosure nearby. I had expected a stench, but the area was surprisingly well-kept.

I nodded at the woman, but she didn’t seem to notice me. It was one of her kids who spotted me first. The boy tugged on his mother’s clothes, drawing her attention. She finally glanced my way, her eyes scanning me, trying to figure out my purpose.

“Hello,” I began, stepping forward. “I’m here about the quest. The lost sheep?”

“Oh, right!” she responded, wiping her hands on her apron. “Yeah, one of our sheep got out last night. It ran into the forest. My husband went after it, but he came back empty-handed. We figured it was time to call in some professional help.”

“Help...” I mumbled under my breath, the idea of me being considered a ‘professional,’ was funny. “I’ll do my best to find it. Which way did it go?”

She pointed toward the edge of the forest. “It ran off in that direction, opposite the dirt road.”

“Got it. Thanks for the info,” I said, offering her a quick nod.

“Oh, if you do find it, just make sheep noises. It’ll follow you.”

“Sheep noises,” I muttered. “R-right. Got you. I’ll do that when I find it.”

She shrugged, her face showing doubt. “I doubt it’ll be found. But... good luck.”

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